


Orbiting

by lisabounce



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-12
Updated: 2011-06-12
Packaged: 2017-10-20 08:44:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/210896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisabounce/pseuds/lisabounce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawaii doesn't make sense and the part that makes the least sense is Steve. (And, sometimes, the pineapples.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Orbiting

Hawaii, Danny discovered, doesn't make sense. It's all ...shiny on the surface, gorgeous beaches, girls in bikinis on surf boards, palm trees and tourists, with the smell of mould and excessive humidity and gangs underneath and pineapple on the pizzas.

The part doesn't make sense is Steve. Who bickers in the goddamn car and never knows when to shut up and leave it, who dangles the goddamn witnesses off the side of buildings. Who might have been very, very good at whatever it was he was actually used to do for a job but who also wasn't, objectively speaking, a very good cop.

Danny nearly had conniptions the first time he saw McGarrett at a crime scene. Took a long while for the knot of oh hell no to go away. Took a while longer for it to go away any other time and any other place, what with McGarret attacking goddamn lunatics on warships all on his lonesome and all.

Friday nights were Steve's idea. Or maybe Kono's. Beer and pizza and it took Danny six Fridays to learn that, actually, yes, he could get a slice of pizza without the pineapple on. Friday nights at the clubhouse (because you couldn't call a place like that an office, nor yet the headquarters. Not without falling over laughing, anyhow).

Danny's sitting there, sprawled in one of the deck chairs they'd stashed in the back room, cooler of beer and rapidly melting ice resting just close enough to him that he can tap his knee against it, Kono and Chin on the chairs opposite and Steve on the banana lounge. (And see? This. This was why the place felt like a clubhouse. Only here would he see a banana lounge in the back room of a goddamn taskforce HQ.) There's a handful of mostly empty pizza boxes on the table, scattered through with empty beer bottles and Kono's gone and gotten an x-box, hooked it to the crappy little tv sitting behind the pizza boxes and puts on some equally crappy racing game. She grins, bright and cheerful and half a dozen beers makes Danny take the offered controller and get his ass handed to him.

Three times and then he carefully takes the controller off her and explains, nice short and simple words that "No, we don't beat our superior officers at video games."

"But! You're so easy..." she says, pleading.

"I was doing it on purpose," he said. "Trying to make you feel good," and Chin stands up, puts a hand on her shoulder and says "Maybe it's time we went home while we're still legal to drive." Danny's not too sure if he's doing this for his sake or Kono's. Or maybe Chin just doesn't like watching everyone else get their asses handed to them by a kid.

Danny shrugs. He doesn't have his daughter tonight and he finds the place lonely on Friday nights, especially since he still hasn't gotten his head around what passes for the nightlife hereabouts or how to find it without looking like a goddamn tourist some more. So he reaches down, pulls another two beers out of the cooler (and he's had... many already but who's counting), flicking the water off them and at Steve's face. The man flails entertainingly, as the ice-cold water hits, arms windmilling in surprise as he sits upright, glaring. He flips the tops off the bottles and hands one over, tossing the controller Kono had dropped over a moment later. "Nah. We'll stay a while. I can beat McGarret even if I can't do Kono."

Chin shakes his head, herds Kono out, one hand on her shoulder to stop her walking into walls and doors and complicated small objects like tables.

And, "sure," Steve says, taking a pull from his beer, licking the lip of the bottle ever so slightly and meeting Danny's eyes.

Danny swallows and looks away first, licking his lips, listing all the reasons why even thinking that is a bad plan. It's a long list, starting with "Boss," and moving on to "Navy!"

And it turns out that it isn't just Kono that's some freaky genius when it comes to video games. Can't be that he's just no good at them. And then they're out of beer which seems, at that point, many many beers down, a terrible tragedy. Steve staggers outside on his own, on his way home and Danny considers calling a cab only he can't remember the street address of the clubhouse. He's halfway through calling Steve when he remembers that he'll never, ever, ever be able to live this down if he asks.

So he dumps the phone onto the pile of pizza boxes and empties, curling up on his side on the banana lounge.

He wakes in the morning to the sound of pain, a deep buzzing on the table nearby but moving is just too hard right then so he keeps his eyes closed and goes back to sleep.

Danny wakes again to more pain and this time, the sensation of an evil goddamn bastard poking him repeatedly in the ribs. He covers his head with his hands and tries to roll away from awake but the evil goddamn bastard is too persistent and likely wouldn't stop even if the entire goddamn Marine Corps were between him and his goal of causing Danno pain.

"Come on, man" he says. "We've got a case. There's a little girl that's been kidnapped," and that, combined with the urgent serious tone in Steve's voice penetrates through the haze of pain (and it feels like someone's filled his head with razor blades and it's like there's a knife in his knee as he grabs for his cane and drags himself upright) and hair that was persistently sticking out and drool caked on his left cheek as he grabs the spare suit he keeps in the closet and changes quickly before following McGarrett out the door.

It all ended with Danny punched in the face a couple times while he was being a decoy (lookit the nice harmless man with a cane and ignore the scary man with a gun over there) and then Chin shoved the hysterically crying toddler they'd rescued at him like it might explode before running after Steve, Kono taking one look at the child, grimacing and running after him.

Danny, meanwhile, began the long, slow and familiar routine he'd practised till he could perform it whilst technically and, to all intents and purposes, asleep years ago.

He was at the walking slowly up and down while rubbing soothing circles onto the baby's back and humming Psycho Killer stage while the baby was mostly asleep (ahead of schedule. Grace had never really slept till he broke out the Bon Jovi) when the guys got back.

Steve had a kidnapper, hands cable tied behind his back (and what? Were real cuffs too tricky for ex special ultra ops guys?) and gagged. Goddamn gagged. He kicked the man's feet out from under him, knocking him onto his knees and blinked at Danny. "You're really good at that."

"It's like riding a bike." Besides, Grace had been a restless baby and he hadn't had a single night home where he hadn't done the 3am version of this till she turned two. And it had started again with bad dreams and tummy aches back when she got to noticing the fights between himself and she who shall not be named. "Isn't it, kiddo? Just standing here signing and watching our friends bring us criminals all tied up nicely..."

"Guess I know what to get you for Christmas, then."

"You'd do that for me? For me, really?"

And then, "Psycho Killer?" Steve asked, eyebrow raised.

"It used to settle Gracie," Danny muttered defensively.

 

A week or two later and he's allowed to give up the cane. Danny leans it in a corner and does a little dance in his office when he's done hearing the news. He could have sworn he was alone, right up until he heard Steve's sardonic clapping.

The man needed to wear a bell or something. The glare he gives Steve could strip paint.

 

Danny wasn't surprised to see that Steve was staying in his busted up, shot up house. You can't work alongside a guy for long without learning those details and Steve McGarrett likely won't admit he's taken a hit till he falls over bleeding from it. For him, the house is personal, it's an attack on his father, on all that Steve holds to be right and true in the world and the mad bastard will damned well fix it himself or die trying.

There was a storm last night and there's only going to be more as things drop into what the crazy people who live on this pineapple infested hellhole call winter. (As a general rule, he tries to avoid laughing when they say the 'w' word. It's, overall, a good plan.) Steve's got tarpaulins strung up over the kitchen roof and a few of the external walls and windows when he gets there.

Danny lets himself in, mostly because he lives in hope of one day getting the jump on Steve again and thus seeing the man leap around startled, which is always funny as all hell because there's this point where Steve's super ultra special forces reflexes come into conflict with rational Steve and then. Then there is a moment where the guy always looks like he's been hit in the face with a rotten fish.

He's got to get his kicks somehow.

Steve just nods when Danny drops the six pack on the kitchen counter and climbs down from his perch on a ladder. “If you're here,” he said, “you can help me replace the clap boards out the front.”

“Please.”

“What?”

“Hi, Danny. It's great to see you. If you're here, would you like to please help me replace the clap boards out the front?”

“What?”

“Manners. You know, that thing that civilized people in places that aren't here use? You might have heard of them.”

“Fine! Please help me with the clap boards.”

“Sure. That would be a pleasure,” and Danny grabbed the red pry bar out of the tool box.

“That's mine!”

“And I got it first, so I call dibs.”

“You can't call dibs on a pry bar.”

“Want to bet?” Danny grinned. “Ten says I not only can but I'm not useless with this like you are.”

“What are you saying?”

“Useless.”

 

Steve calls a stop late afternoon, the boards in the pile they both referred to as fucked out on the lawn, the few intact ones nailed back in down near the ground. A stack of new lumber was covered by yet another tarpaulin nearby and they settled down on it.

“I'm thinking of bringing Grace along to help out in a few weeks, once most of the damage is fixed. She'd get a real kick out of helping with the painting.” Once the bullet holes were gone. No way known that his baby girl was ever going to see those.

“Cool.” Steve stands, picking up his discarded shirt and heads into the house. Danny just enjoys the view, as Steve returns a moment later barefoot and carrying the beer. He points toward the little scrap of beach.

The blood's gone, washed off the sand and Danny collapses onto one of the chairs. “I haven't worked construction since my senior year. I used to do summers with an uncle who had a contracting business.”

“It shows, you know.”

“What? That I know what I'm doing?”

“No, that you haven't done it in 20 years.”

“Oh hah. Hah. Hah.” He settled for ignoring Steve, drinking the beer and watching the sun go down over the water and that was never not going to be weird.

 

Thanksgiving dawns bright and cheerful and still warm enough for shirt sleeves. Danny feels it's utterly, horrifically wrong right up until he checks (morning ritual part three, after 'locate coffee' and 'FIND PANTS NOW' but before 'text Grace') the weather and the winter storms forecast for everywhere further west hit the East Coast, too. And for one glorious, guilt ridden, conflicted moment, his hatred of Hawaii is overwritten by his equally passionate hatred of sleet.

And then he remembers what day it is and that Rachel didn't celebrate the holiday but, being unquestionably evil refused to believe that an idiotic American holiday was enough reason for him to have Grace for the day.

He punches the wall and fumbles for shoes and tie and shirt, bruised knuckles aching as he ties his tie.

And just then, as he walks out into the cheerful sunshine, Danny hates Hawaii again.

He hates it even more as he spends more than a healthy part of his day off chasing arms dealers and snarls at Steve at 8am after 23 hours on shift already when he says “Book 'em, Danno,” and considers taking a pot shot at the smug bastard, too.

Kono's swaying on her feet by the time they've dragged Mr Idiot Arms Dealer and his three stooges who, seriously, could not have had worse timing if they'd tried back to a holding cell.

Chin falls asleep in the passenger seat of Kono's car on the way to an all night burger joint, though it's past noon by then. Danny would if Steve didn't drive like a moron with a deathwish. And that's when he's not drunk on exhaustion. They poke Chin awake again to order and get the burgers and fries and cokes to go.

They sit on eat their belated dinners on the beach and Danny falls asleep with his head on Steve's shoulder. It's actually not his worst thanksgiving ever. Not that he's counting. No. But if he was, which he isn't, that was the one his first year in Homicide.

He sort of wakes up, a little, as Steve guides him toward the car. Wakes up a little bit again as Steve tugs him out of the car, takes his shoulders and steers him toward the door and props him against the wall to go through Danny's pockets, looking for the keys to his apartment. Steve keeps one hand on Danny's chest as he opens the door and sort of pulls him inside, shoving him at the fold-out.

Dimly, Danny is aware that there's daylight happening outside his head but right now, he's too busy being asleep. He wakes up enough to remove tie and shoes and shirt and trousers before blinking at Steve who was clearly trying to decide how he was going to manage a 40 minute drive and mumbles “Take the other side of the damn couch. 's too far to go home.”

He thinks Steve maybe answers but really, listening would involve being awake. And awake is hard so he ignores it.

Danny wakes a few hours later curled up against Steve and really, that's not so bad. He thinks he could maybe grow to not hate this place entirely.


End file.
